


Purple Hyacinths, Hawthorns, and Clovers

by creamyoreofillings



Series: The Flower Collection [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Choking, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sad, Unrequited Love, character death??????, i use ouma because i wont deprive my boy some u's, id let mother nature choke me though, lmao starting off the tags with a bang, not sexual choking guys, these kids dont know how to communicate their feelings, virtual reality au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creamyoreofillings/pseuds/creamyoreofillings
Summary: Purple Hyacinths : Sorrow, Please forgive meHawthorn : HopeClover (Four-leaf) : Be mine





	Purple Hyacinths, Hawthorns, and Clovers

Nagito hunches over on the floor of his bathroom, a bucket in both hands. His eyes water and his body shivers all over as he takes shuddering, cracked breaths. He stares at nothing, subtly feeling the flowers blooming inside his chest and it _hurts_.

 

Every breath, every laugh, every whisper, and every single word that comes out of his mouth hurts so much. The roots start to grow bigger within the tiny pockets in his lungs and the petals of every flower clog his throat whenever he breathes ever so slightly. Nagito resorted to just not speak unless necessary.

 

Nagito starts to think of things that wont trigger another attack; the rising workload he has, his new charge, his current living situation, that book he hasn't finished that Hinata had given him-

 

Nagito starts to hack out the petals, feeling his throat getting raw as the petals smack into the bucket with each harsh, forceful cough. His mind scrambles to change topic, but all he can think about is Hinata. Hinata and his stupid tie, his stupid red and honey eyes, his stupid hair, his stupid blunt honesty, his stupid, _stupid_ endless patience for Nagito-

 

He chokes on the next batch of flower petals and it derails his thoughts right off the metaphorical tracks. _'Am I going to die right now…?’_ Nagito thinks to himself. The petals keep coming, keep blocking his throat, that he had to pound his chest with his fist to get them unclogged.

 

When the fourth, _panicked_ fist hits his chest, the petals burst out of his mouth and into the bucket below. Air rushed to his lungs in greedy, shaky breaths through his mouth, too tired to actually breathe in through his nose.

 

Nagito’s eyes starts to water again, and its not from _just_ the pain. His eyes water with sadness, anger, resignation, melancholy and hopelessness. Fat tears roll down his stretched, pale face and into the bucket below, and Nagito can't stop them because he's _too tired, he can't deal with this anymore_.

 

So the tears keep coming, and he hiccups from the rolling emotions in his chest, waiting to burst. “I’m so selfish,” Nagito whispers to himself, ignoring the cracked sound of his own voice. “to not want to die when I'm literally killing myself.” He chuckles humorlessly, coughing out smaller petals.

 

But he keeps on talking despite the pain, the desperate need to let out his emotions overriding his conscience sending red flags all around his mind. “But I can't help it,” Nagito says, his voice wobbling. He closes his eyes as he feels the petals moving up his throat. “this feeling, it's what keeps me going, keeps me sane…” He starts to sob, quiet and broken, in more ways than one.

 

_“I won't take the surgery.” Nagito says, looking at Mikan in the eyes. He can feel the flowers in his lungs, but he ignores it to keep his stance._

 

 _“B-but Nagito-kun, with your i-illness, and t-this disease, you…” Mikan argues, trailing off with a pained, heartbroken expression. “you won't last long!” She shouts, real,_ real, _tears in her eyes._

 

“I…” Nagito sobs, getting louder as the rolling emotions start to bubble up his throat along side the petals. “I can't keep going like this…” He sniffs, the grip on his bucket tightens. “But I can't forget. I _won't_ forget, because I treasure our moments together so much.”

 

_Mikan starts to sob, and Nagito’s stance shifts slightly. “I-I-I!” She hiccups, furiously wiping her tears with the heel of her palms. “I ddont wantt to LLOSE YOUU!” She cries out, eyes sad and angry and resigned._

 

 _“Y-you’re m-my_ **friend** _an-nd y-you mean so,_ S-SO MUCH _to me!!” Her whole body shakes and she looks ready to collapse that Nagito comes closer to catch her if she falls._

 

Nagito coughs up more petals, but he keeps going. “Hinata-kun _hates_ me,” He coughs more when he says his name out loud, and the petals actually _sting_. But he keeps going. “but I won't ever forget.”

 

He opens his eyes and looks down at the petals in his bucket. He stares at the pile of _flowers_ inside; haphazard bouquets of hyacinths, hawthorns, and clovers streaked with blood stare back at him mockingly.

 

_Mikan sobs and buries her face in her hands, and Nagito wraps his arms around her. She sobs harder, starting to wail, but she leans toward Nagito's chest._

 

_“I'm sorry for being so selfish…” Nagito whispers to her. “But I don't want to lose these feelings, Mikan.” Mikan just shakes her head furiously, shudders taking over her body. “Just… Try not to miss me much, yeah…?” He tries, chuckling without mirth._

 

_Mikan just cries even harder._

 

\---

 

“Did it act up?” Ouma asks bluntly, a blank expression on his face. He’s sitting on the desk this time, feet crossed at the ankles and his hands daintily on his lap. His question sounded more like a demand, but Nagito smiles weakly.

 

“Hello to you too, Ouma-kun.” Nagito greets, moving over to sit on Ouma’s bed. He looks up to meet his charge’s gaze head on. “Nice weather we are having, huh?” He says conversationally, a neutral smile on his lips.

 

The small supreme leader actually _snarls_ at him, his childish face twisting into something filled with so much _hate_ . “Cut the fucking bullshit, _Komaeda-chan_ .” He barks out, hands starting to curl into fists. “I asked you a question, and I _demand_ you to answer me.”

 

Nagito sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking away from the plum-haired boy. Despite the supreme leader’s constant jabs at him being boring, he actually cares for Nagito a whole lot. “I… I can't tell you that.” Nagito huffs out, the flowers stirring in his lungs when he does.

 

“Ooohh, so it _DID_ act up, didn't it?” Ouma exclaimed in an overly cheerful tone, his words mocking. He leans forward and braces his hands on the edge of the desk. “Ah-ah! Don't try to lie to me Ko~mae~da~ _chaaaan_!” He narrows his eyes at Nagito and smiles tightly when the white-haired male tried to reply.

 

“Becaaaaause,” His previous expression falls. “I _despise_ liars.” He says lowly, openly glaring at Nagito with a frown on his face.

 

Nagito glances at the supreme leader before looking back at the bookshelf. He can feel the flowers in his chest, hyper aware of their presence in his lungs. He sighs and he feels the flowers gently move; irritating his lungs causing him to cough into his hand, grimacing at the purple hyacinth petals in his palm.

 

Ouma leans back with his arms crossed, face sporting an open expression of concern. Nagito realizes that this is horribly, horribly bad if it makes _the_ Ouma Kokichi: liar extraodinaire, to lower his various masks to show actual, genuine emotion.

 

They sit in tense silence for a while, the only sounds in the room being the rustle of clothes and bedsheets.

 

The supreme leader takes a breath before releasing it, breaking the silence. He looks away from Nagito, arms still crossed on his chest.

 

“I…” Ouma whispers quietly, like he’s scared to make his voice loud. “I really care about you, y’know.” His face is scrunched up in genuine frustration and pain, as if telling the truth is physically hard to do.

 

“You're… you're one of the few people who genuinely get me.” He huffs out a breath, looking at Nagito head on. For a split second, Nagito could see the uncertainty, sadness, and _fear_ in his purple eyes, before Ouma schools it into a laid-back expression; leaning back against the wall, hands behind his head with a small smile on his face.

 

“Or y’know, that _could_ be a lie,” The supreme leader announced happily. “or not. Who knows? I _am_ a liar after all!” He cheerfully exclaims, spreading his arms out. Nagito smiles at his charge, as he starts to babble about his day.

 

Nagito finds it tragically ironic that he lies all of the time, despite hating liars with a burning passion.

 

\---

 

“Ae you okay, Komaeda?” Hinata asks Nagito, and he can feel the roots of the flowers digging into his alveoli. It starts to hurt and his breathing changes slightly.

 

Nagito smiles at him, hoping that it's not too obvious that he's actually in pain. “I’m fine Hinata-kun,” He replies diplomatically, tilting his head a bit. “Why do you ask?”

 

Hinata glances away, scratching his cheek with a sheepish expression and Nagito's heart stutters at the sight of it. The petals start piling up in response and the roots squeeze, almost making him cough.

 

Nagito turns his head away, trying to quietly stop himself from coughing by clearing his throat discreetly.

 

Hinata reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “You look pale, thin, and you look like you haven't been sleeping much lately.” He explains, fixing his red and honey eyes on Nagito’s murky green ones.

 

 _'Don’t say it, don't say it…’_ Nagito prays in his head, feeling the flowers starting to move in protest to his feelings.

 

“I’m just… concerned, you know?” Hinata says despite Nagito's wishes. The roots and stems constricts his lungs, and the petals start filling up his throat at a fast pace. Nagito starts to panic and tries to think of a solution.

 

“I’m fine-” He tries to lie, before spiralling into a harsh coughing fit. His reflexes helped him cover the escaping petals as he held a face towel to his mouth.

 

Nagito can feel Hinata looking over him, and it makes him cough a bit harder. “What do you mean, _'fine’_?!” Hinata demanded rhetorically. “You’re obviously not fine!” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Just… Just go and rest up, okay?” He finally suggests. Nagito’s heart jolts at the suggestion. “You're obviously not well, so I’ll take care of Ouma today.” He adds, making the white-haired male subtly panic.

 

“N-no, no, it's okay, Hinata-kun!” Nagito objects, starting to feel the petals build up in his already raw throat. “You don't need to worry about someone like me! I can do this!”

 

Hinata rolls his eyes at that and places his hands on Nagito's shoulders, steering him to Nagito's room. His heart starts to pound in dread and shock, and the flowers squeezes his lungs painfully.

 

Hinata opens the door for him and gently pushed him inside. Nagito stumbles anyway, and turns to face him quickly that it gives him whiplash. Hinata smiles at him and Nagito's heart melts and feels _whole flowers_ climbing up his throat.

 

“Go get some rest, Komaeda.” Hinata reminds him. “I need to tell you something later, and I don't need you falling asleep on me.” With that, he gently closed the door with a soft click, and Nagito immediately runs to the bathroom to cough out another painful bouquet.

 

\---

 

Nagito ponders about his literally short life and his ultimate decision as he lies on his bed.

 

He would never hear Mikan fussing over him and the new bruises his bad luck would give him, he would never hear Ouma tell stories about his 'evil’ organization, and most of all, he would never hear what Hinata had to say to him.

 

 _'Maybe thats fine…’_ Nagito thinks to himself, absentmindedly coughing up the fully bloomed flowers; purple hyacinths, he quietly observes. _‘I'll never get to embarrass myself by dying in front of him if I do it first right here.’_

 

Nagito rolls over onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He sighs heavily and feels the flowers pushing their way up through his throat.

 

He closes his eyes, and lets his mental guard on his mind down. He thinks of Hinata-kun, and it unleashes a tidal wave of love, pain, sadness and happiness.

  
_'At least,’_ Nagito thinks as he chokes on a particularly large hawthorn and as his vision goes dark, _'I’ll die happy, I guess…’_

**Author's Note:**

> :^)
> 
> heya im bacc, posting for komahina again after ten years and all i have to offer is d e a t h
> 
> anyway, this is a part of a collection of stories surrounding the Hanahaki Disease. im taking some creative liberties about it, since theres no solid description about the symptoms or how it affects the afflicted.
> 
> an another note, you can pry kokichi & nagito's familial relationship off my cold dead hands. also the mikan & nagito friendship. i will take those brotps to my grave.


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